


What the Heart Wants

by GirlOnFire101



Category: Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Angst, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Love at First Sight, Romance, Sexual content later on in story
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-17
Updated: 2015-02-18
Packaged: 2017-11-21 09:33:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/596199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GirlOnFire101/pseuds/GirlOnFire101
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"There's no way this...bread boy can hypnotize me after setting eyes on him for the first time. There's just no way." Katniss is torn. She's dating her best friend of seven years, Gale, and is perfectly happy. Until Peeta Mellark steps into the picture, and she's instantly attracted to him. She needs to follow her heart, but where will it take her?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Hey everyone! This is my first AU, and I'm also currently in the middle of writing a regular fanfic as well! I'm excited to be starting this, seeing as I usually only stick with the original storyline, so it'll be fun to change things up and see what the response is! Any feedback would be amazing; I'm interested to hear what you have to say! Enjoy!

“Good evening, my name is Katniss and I’ll be your server tonight. What can I get you to start?” I say as cheerfully as possible, plastering the biggest smile I can muster on my face.   
I take down the customer’s orders and excuse myself with another smile. As I bring the order to the kitchen, I can’t help but sigh heavily and glance over at the clock. Just half an hour, thirty more minutes before I can get out of this place. 

I finish off my shift as quickly as I can, rushing between tables, refilling drinks, grabbing cheques until finally, my boss, Haymitch calls out to me that I can leave.   
I rip off my apron and throw it onto the bar, grabbing my purse from under the counter before making a beeline for the exit. I make my way to the alley beside the restaurant and jump into my beat up old pickup truck that I’ve had since I got my licence a couple years back. I fire the truck up and speed out of the alley, grateful to be heading home. 

I turn up the radio and concentrate on the road in front of me, trying to stay awake. Working long hours tends to take its toll on me, and besides, I’ve never liked working at that place anyways. Abernathy’s Bar and Grill, the most popular place to eat in my town of Panem, is always packed, and there’s never any time to stop and take a breather. Though, I can’t complain, the pay is pretty good, and the tips are usually generous. The worst part, besides the hours, is my boss, Mr. Haymitch Abernathy himself. He’s an older man, who’s sour most of the time, and drunk the rest. Though, he can be a pretty okay guy, especially since he hired me despite being under the legal drinking age, working for him gets tiring. 

I pull into the driveway of my mother’s house, where I’m currently living as I save up for my own apartment. I turn off the truck and just sit there for a few moments, half dreading going inside.   
The house is dark, so my mother and little sister, Prim, must be asleep. It’s always depressing, coming home, even though I’d rather be here than anywhere else, because it’s where my sister is. I smile at the thought of her. Primrose Everdeen, my fourteen year old sister who’s sweeter than any person you’ll ever meet. We look nothing alike, me with my dark hair, grey eyes and olive skin, and her; fair skinned with long blonde hair, and eyes as blue as the sky. Out of all the people in the world, Prim is the only person I feel I can ever talk to about whatever is going on in my life. 

I finally climb out of the truck, closing the door as quietly as possible, and make my way to the front door, unlocking it and stepping inside. As I make my way to the stairs that lead to my bedroom on the second floor, I pass my mother’s room, where I can see her sleeping soundly through the crack in the door.   
My mother and I haven’t exactly had the best relationship these past few years. Ever since my father was killed in a car accident, she hasn’t been the same. 

My heart aches at the thought of my father. I was, by far, my father’s daughter. His spitting image, I never left his side. We did everything together, and he was the most important person in my life. 

When he died, seven years ago, I didn’t know how I was going to go on. I would’ve given up, but my mother beat me to it. Becoming someone who I always thought she was too strong to become. She wouldn’t eat, wouldn’t sleep, wouldn’t even talk, or acknowledge Prim or I. Prim, being only seven, would sit beside her, crying her eyes out, begging her to talk to her, or do something. It was no use. She just sat, in her rocking chair, slowly rocking back and forth, eyes glued to a spot on the floor. I became the primary caregiver for my sister and myself, always making sure we had food on the table and clean clothes to wear. Those were her better days, though, because then she took to drinking. After about a year, she started functioning again. She still didn’t talk much, and had the same glazed over look in her eyes, but she got out of the chair, and went out. For the first time in a year, I had a speck of hope. It was false hope, though, because her daily trips into the outside world always brought her to the liquor store, where she would stock up on booze and drink her sorrows away. It got to the point where she became violent in her drunken state, smashing bottles, throwing furniture, cursing at Prim and I. She never hit us, though, only yelled at us, blamed us for our father’s death. Along with the drinking, she made it a habit of popping any kind of medication she could find. Cough syrup, pain killers, anti-depressants, stimulants, it didn’t matter. She swallowed huge amounts of medication, washing them down with her alcohol. 

I’d become accustomed to coming home from school, Prim in tow, to find her passed out on the kitchen floor.   
Since then, it’s gotten slightly better, though her favourite beverage is still her alcohol. She’s become almost unrecognizable. Gone is the beautiful woman, whose blonde hair was always so perfectly styled, her clothes, elegant and classy, her makeup always done to perfection, whose best accessory was her smile. Now, she’s a haggard, tired looking woman, who seems to be ten years older than she is. Her hair; always askew and unruly, she never smiles, never changes her clothes. She only drinks.   
I climb the stairs, but instead of heading to my room, I turn to the left, and quietly enter Prim’s room, where she’s sleeping soundly, curled onto her side. I smile and smooth her hair back from her forehead, climbing into the bed beside her and pulling the covers up around us both. I close my eyes, and fall into a dreamless sleep. 

**

“Katniss, you have a visitor!” Prim calls from the kitchen.   
I scramble down the stairs, and race to the front door, catapulting myself into the arms of the man standing there. His dark hair is perfectly messy, as always, and his grey eyes twinkle as he catches me, wrapping his arms tightly around me. 

He chuckles, “Well, hello Catnip.”

I laugh and wiggle out of his arms to meet his eyes, standing on my tip-toes to plant a light kiss on his lips. 

Gale, my boyfriend, and also my best friend. We’ve known each other for years, and have been best friends since both of our father’s died--his having been involved in an accident at work--when we met at the small get together the company had in honour of our fathers, who had both worked at the same place. He’s older than me, being 22 himself, and was older when his father died, but also had the responsibility of caring for his three younger siblings. Six months ago, he admitted he had feelings for me, and since then, we’ve been dating. I never really imagined dating Gale, seeing as he’s practically my brother, but, things seem to have been going well, so I went along with it. 

“Hey,” I grin, grabbing his hand, “Ready to go?” 

He nods and waves to Prim before leading me out to his car. 

We drive in silence for a while, before I turn to him, “So, where exactly are you taking me tonight?” 

“You can’t let me surprise you, can you?” He chuckles, poking my shoulder playfully. 

I shake my head, smiling. “I’m bringing you to the new café that opened up downtown.” He shrugs, “I figured you’d like it, it’s somewhere different.”

I nod and sink back into my seat, slightly disappointed. Gale isn’t exactly what you would call a romantic kind of guy. He’s not into the cheesy, cute dates that boyfriends normally plan for their girlfriends. 

I’m not exactly the kind of person who’s into that sort of thing either, though I can’t help but feel upset that he never even tries to be romantic,   
I look out the window and roll my eyes. His idea of romantic is bringing me back to his apartment and locking us in his bedroom for the night, hoping to get something, anything really, out of me.

I glance sideways at him. Gale and I haven’t done anything...substantial, in the bedroom. It’s not that he isn’t attractive, he is, very much so. With his strong features, muscled body, and overall attractive appearance, he’s what most girls would die for.   
Despite all that, he’s one of my closest friends, and someone I’ve known for years. I feel that doing something that intense with him would change our relationship, forever. And I can’t risk losing the strong friendship with the only other person I have; besides Prim.   
After what feels like forever, Gale pulls into a parking spot in front of the new café, and I’m surprised to find how quaint and cozy it looks. A big change from what I’m used to at the restaurant. 

I climb out of the car and Gale takes my hand, leading me up the stairs in front of the shop, and into the seating area.   
I can’t help but be impressed when I walk inside. This place, simply called Mellark Café, is nothing huge and fancy, yet it has a nice feel to it. There are several tables placed around the large room, all covered in pretty white lace table cloths. The walls are painted a nice shade of orange, that gives the room a warm, cozy feel without being overpowering and gaudy. There are two, big bay windows at the front of the place, allowing you to look out and see the happenings on the street. In the back of the café, are two display cases, one filled with delicious looking, intricately designed pastries, and a variety of breads and things in the other. In between the cases, is a marble countertop, with a cash register places on top. An older man, a little on the heavy side with curly blonde hair, streaked with grey stands there, working over the register. Behind him, is a half wall, allowing you a glimpse of the big ovens and bakers running around in the kitchen. 

Gale walks up to the man at the register and clears his throat. The man jumps slightly and looks up, smiling when he sees Gale and I. 

“Hello! Welcome, welcome! I’m Bannock Mellark, the owner of this place,” he smiles warmly, reaching out to shake Gale’s hand. “Sorry, I’m a little new to these registers…not used to this technology,” he chuckles, “My sons usually handle the front end of the café. Anyways, would you like a seat?”   
He walks around the counter and motions for us to follow, leading us to a table for two in front of the window. 

“Thank you. This is a lovely place,” I say, smiling up at him. This man has a sweet air about him, and, just by talking to him, you can easily tell he’s a nice person. 

He smiles at me, “Thank you young lady. It’s taken a long time, but I’ve finally achieved the goal of owning my own place.” Then, he turns back towards the kitchen, looking for something. 

“I’ll have one of my sons come out to take your order in a moment. But in the meantime, here are some menus for you to look over,” He says, grabbing two menus from the nearby basket and handing one to each of us. 

I smile at him as he disappears into the kitchen.   
Gale chuckles at me from behind his menu and I raise an eyebrow. 

“What?” I ask defensively.

He shakes his head, “I’ve never seen you so…friendly around a stranger before.”

I scoff, “He seems like a nice man. I can be friendly you know.” I look back at my menu, a little hurt that he’d accuse me of being obnoxious and cold. 

A few minutes later, a young man appears from the kitchen and makes his way to our table. I can tell right away that he’s related to Bannock Mellark.   
This boy, who looks to be about Gale’s age, maybe a year younger, has the same curly blonde hair as the owner, though his isn’t streaked with grey. His curls fall in an unruly manner, but still manage to look presentable. He’s slim, and judging by the way his white shirt clings to his body, he’s well built. He walks over to our table, stopping beside it and smiles down at me. 

My breath catches in my throat when he smiles at me. His teeth, perfectly straight and white, seem to sparkle when he does so, and his eyes, bluer than even Prims, pull me in. I’m mesmerised by the man standing in front of me. I’m not sure if my imagination is playing tricks on me, but I’m pretty sure he continues to stare at me too, his mouth opening and closing a few times.   
It’s as if we’re in a trance, just staring at each other.   
Finally, I clear my throat and look down at my menu. There is no way this can be good. There’s no way this...bread boy can hypnotize me after setting eyes on him for the first time.   
There’s just no way.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hey guys! A quick update just cus I was so excited to write more because of your responses! This chapter doesn’t really accomplish much, but it gives us an insight into Peeta’s life! Please enjoy, and again, feedback is always appreciated!

I know I’m staring. I know it’s unprofessional. I know it’s weird and probably a little bit creepy. But I just can’t help it. 

This girl, sitting in front of me, waiting for me to take her order, is doing something to me. I don’t exactly know what it is, or why it’s happening, but I do know that I’ve never reacted this way to a girl in my entire life. Ever. 

So what is it about this girl? I haven’t even talked to her…I’m her waiter for god’s sakes! There’s just something about her shiny brown hair that’s styled in a braid, falling over her shoulder, her big grey eyes, staring back at me, and her olive skin that looks silky smooth, and flawless. 

She clears her throat and looks away, and I’m snapped out of my daze. I look to the man she’s sitting with, and immediately feel a pang of jealousy. I don’t know what their situation is; I don’t even know either of them, but Mr. tall-dark-and-handsome is a very, very lucky man. I shake my head slightly, chastising myself silently. I can’t be doing this, I’m on duty. Act professional. Besides, like I said before, I don’t even know these people, this girl. I glance over at the girl out of the corner of my eye. But I sure as hell would like to. 

“Hello. I’m Peeta Mellark, my dad owns the place,” I say finally, causing the man to look up, as if he’s just noticed my presence. “Are you ready to order?” 

The man nods and I turn my attention to the girl, seeing as it’s usually customary to let the ladies order first. 

“I’ll have the shepherd’s pie,” the man says suddenly, closing his menu and handing it to me. 

I hesitate a moment before smiling and taking the menu from his hands. Yeah, I definitely don’t like this guy. 

I turn back to the girl, to find her already looking at me. She blushes and looks down at her menu again, ordering the soup of the day in a bread bowl. 

I leave the table, giving the orders to my oldest brother, Rye, who’s working the kitchen today. I lean against the wall separating the kitchen and the main area, looking in the general direction of their table. I watch as they begin a conversation, the girl laughs a few times, and I smile in spite of myself. 

I don’t realize how long I’ve been staring until she looks my way, and catches me looking. I quickly avert my gaze, pretending to be occupied with the art hanging on the wall. When she turns away again, I look back, embarrassed. 

I feel stupid. A million thoughts enter my mind at that moment. Why am I acting like such an idiot? I must be delusional, or something. I don’t know this girl. I’ve never seen her before in my life. I’m new to this end of town. I shouldn’t be staring. She’s with another guy. She’s a customer; this is my dad’s place. Staring like this is highly unprofessional.   
I sigh and turn around, peering into the kitchen to check on Rye’s progress. He hands me the two plates and I balance them in my hands, carefully carrying them over to her table. 

I place the plates in front of them, avoiding eye contact with her, and tell them to enjoy. 

I walk back into the kitchen and sit down in the chair against the wall, putting my head in my hands.   
What’s wrong with me? I don’t know why, or how, but I feel a strange…connection to the girl sitting in the dining area. I feel like I need to know her. 

“God Peeta, you’re fucking psycho,” I whisper to myself, shaking my head. 

A while later, I re-enter the dining room, to find they’ve finished their meals. I take a deep breath and begin to make my way over to them, smiling.   
As I approach the table, I’m met with a little surprise. They have their hands on the table, fingers interlocked, and he’s rubbing her arm with his hand, smiling and whispering something to her. She’s smiling and laughing. I swallow and walk up to the table. The girl looks up at me and blushes, trying to pull her hand away, but the man tightens his grip, chuckling a little. 

It has to be weird how much that bugs me. 

“Is that all for today?” I ask cheerfully. 

The man looks up at me and nods, smiling slightly. “It was great, thanks. Nice place your dad has too,” he says, looking around appreciatively. 

“Glad you enjoyed yourselves,” I reply, trying to be as upbeat as I can. 

So they’re together. I should’ve known. A girl that looks like her is never single. 

I grab their empty plates, “If you’d just follow me to the cash, I’ll take care of the bill in a minute.”  
I rush back into the kitchen, dump the plates and met them at the register. The man is reaching into his pocket, seemingly looking for some money to pay with, but the girl places a hand on his arm. 

“It’s okay Gale. Lunch is on me,” she says sweetly. He looks at her a moment before smiling and pressing a kiss to her forehead.   
I try my best not to grimace. 

She pulls her wallet out of her purse, and holds up a credit card. I push the machine towards her, and she pays, pulling out her card when she’s finished.   
The receipt prints, and I rip it off, handing it to her, “Just your signature, please.”  
She nods, taking the pen from the counter and scribbling her name onto the paper.   
With that, she says goodbye, takes the hand of the man, whose name I’ve learned is Gale, and walks out into the street.   
I stand there a moment, staring out the door, as if she’ll just reappear. With a sigh I grab the receipt from the counter, and am about to put it with the rest of the transaction records, when something occurs to me.   
I look at the signature she scribbled, and smile to myself. It reads: Katniss Everdeen.   
At least now I know her name. 

**

After what feels like the longest day of my life, I’m grateful to get home to my apartment to find that neither of my roommates, Finnick and Thresh are home. 

Finnick is my best friend, and living with him is great, but he tends to be a little…loud and obnoxious at times. He almost always has someone over, usually a girl, and things get a little…loud, so it’s nice to come home to a quiet apartment. Thresh, on the other hand, is a little more quiet than Finnick. He’s not very outgoing, unless you get a couple drinks into him. He’s a big guy, all muscle, and if he wasn’t one of my good friends, he would terrify me.

Just as I’m kicking off my shoes, ready to lounge on the couch and watch some TV, the door to the apartment flies open, and there’s Finnick. 

“Honey, I’m home!” he laughs, slamming the door behind him and plopping down on the couch beside me. 

I chuckle, “Jeez Finn, pipe down, will you? Last thing we need is the neighbour’s getting suspicious.”

He rolls his eyes, grabbing the remote from my hand and flipping through the channels, settling on a football game. He leans back, hands behind his head, and glances over at me, smirking. 

“What?” I ask, raising an eyebrow. “What did you do this time?”

He laughs, “Why do you always ask me that?” Before I can give him a snide reply, he continues, “I met a girl today.”

I snort and he narrows his eyes at me. 

“What? And you didn’t bring her home to show her your ‘moves’?” I tease.   
Finn is a sort of…womanizer. He’s the biggest flirt I’ve ever met, and gets the ladies very, very easily and very often too. Usually it’s just a one night stand and he never sees her again. But when he really likes someone, he really likes them. I guess you could say it’s his weakness. He falls hard, and fast.

He rolls his eyes and slaps me across the back of the head. “No, I didn’t. I actually like this girl, Peet. Who knows, she might be it for me.”

I raise an eyebrow, studying him for a moment and the nod. “You do know you say that almost every time, right?” I point out. “But, if you really like her, then kudos you Finn, I’m happy for you! I’ll have to meet this lucky lady sometime,” I smile at him.

He grins and turns his attention back to the television.   
“What’s been going on with you lately, hm? Have you met anyone special?” he asks, leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees, apparently intrigued by the football game. 

I laugh, “Not exactly.”  
It isn’t exactly a lie. I haven’t really met her yet. Only taken her order, and in my book, that doesn’t count. 

**

“Hey Finn, are you ready yet? I’m not getting any younger here!” I call in the general direction of his bedroom.   
I check myself in the mirror once more, making sure my hair looks fine, when he finally emerges from his bedroom. 

I glance over at him and he strikes a pose, “Am I distracting you, Mellark?”

I laugh, “Definitely.”

Finnick’s dressed in a pair of dress pants and a skin tight button up shirt. He pushes his hair back. “How do I look? Good, right?”

I roll my eyes, “Yes Finn, absolutely stunning. Now can we get going? We’re going to be late meeting Delly and your date.”

He winks and breezes past me, grabbing his car keys. “Let’s go then, Mellark.”

As we’re driving to the restaurant, I can see Finn becoming slightly nervous. 

“You’re going to do fine, you know. You always have a way with women. Don’t worry, man,” I assure him, slapping him on the back. 

He nods slowly, “I just don’t want to mess it up with this one, you know? She’s…different from the others. Nicer, beautiful, and definitely isn’t a whore.” He looks over at me, “I even tried one of my famous ‘get in your pants’ pick-up lines the first time we met, and she wasn’t having any of it. She’s a real catch, this one.”

I nod, genuinely happy for my friend. It sounds as if he’s finally found someone who isn’t just looking for sex. He needs someone like that, someone to…tame him, in a way. 

As we get closer to the restaurant, he begins to tell me a little about this girl. Her name is Annie Cresta, and she’s, apparently, “the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen”.   
I encourage him to tell me more, though I’m not really listening to a word he’s saying. As he’s telling me about his newest conquest, I can’t help but think of the girl, Katniss, from my father’s café the other day. It’s silly, yes, but I can’t help myself.   
Before I know it, Finn’s shut up and is pulling into a parking space in front of Abernathy’s Bar and Grill. He turns off the ignition and looks over at me, and I can plainly see the terror in his eyes. 

“Relax, Finn. You’re the master, remember?” I tease, chuckling as I get out of the car.   
I’m sure I hear him mumble something about me being a jackass as we enter the restaurant, which is packed full of people. It’s nothing new, really, the place is always jammed. They say it’s the place in all of Panem that has the best food.   
Though, since my dad’s café opened, I highly doubt it. 

Finnick talks to the hostess, telling her of our reservations for four, and she leads us to a table off to the side, away from the huge crowds of people surrounding the bar.   
Delly and Annie are already there, seated on opposite sides of the table. Delly breaks into a huge smile when she sees us coming, and stands up, giving each of us a hug.   
Delly’s been one of my best friends ever since I can remember. She’s always been the one I’ve gone to with all of my problems. It’s never mattered that she was a girl; we talk about anything and everything.

“Peeta, you’re sitting next to me tonight,” she informs me, gesturing to the seat next to her, “And Finn, you sit next to Annie, of course.”

Finnick nods, oddly quiet, and takes his seat, whispering a hello to Annie.

I hold my hand out to Annie, smiling, “Nice to meet you, Annie. I’m Peeta, Finn’s best friend and roommate.”

She smiles, but her eyes don’t meet mine. Instead, they flit around the room, darting from person to person, object to object; as if she’s afraid something might jump up and attack her. 

I retract my hand and sit down slowly, looking over at Finnick. He’s already watching me, silently telling me he’ll inform me on her ‘situation’ later. 

I clear my throat, “Did we order drinks already?”   
Delly shakes her head and I look around for a waitress. Finally, I spot one, and wave her over. 

As she approaches, I notice that she looks strangely familiar. She pulls her notebook from her apron pocket and steps into the light beside our table.   
That’s when I see who it is.   
Katniss. Katniss Everdeen, the girl from the café. I’m a little surprised, first of all that she’s able to work here, and secondly that she seems to recognize me too, right away. 

She looks at me, as if studying me for a moment, and then I realize I’m staring, yet again. 

“Good evening, my name is Katniss and I’ll be your server tonight. What can I get you to start?” she says slowly, prying her eyes from mine to smile at the others at the table. 

Thankfully, no one else seems to have noticed my slight hesitation, and they begin to order drinks. I order a rum and coke and she flits away towards the bar to retrieve them.   
The others start a conversation, and I stay silent for a few minutes. Twice, I’ve seen this girl twice in my life, and she manages to render me speechless both times. Obviously I have some serious issues. 

A little while later, she returns with our drinks, setting them in front of us and asking for our meal orders.   
Everyone places theirs, and she’s off again.   
I watch her as she walks away, memorizing the sway of her backside as she walks, the way her hair swings , the few strands of hair that have come loose from her braid falling down her back.

“Hello? Peeta?”

My head snaps back to the table to find all three of the others staring at me. Finnick has an amused smile on his face, and I can only guess he’s realized what I’ve been staring at. 

I clear my throat, feeling my cheeks heat up, “Sorry. What was it you were saying?”  
I try my best to focus on the conversation, but find myself glancing towards the bar, the kitchen, the crowds, searching for Katniss, wondering when she’ll be back with the food, just so I can look at her…again. 

Finally, a waitress approaches with our food, and to my dismay, it isn’t Katniss. It’s an older woman, with graying hair whose name tag reads “Sae”.   
I don’t think I’m very good at hiding my disappointment, because Finnick’s got the smile on his face again.   
We begin eating, a comfortable silence falling over us as we enjoy out food. My mind wanders, wondering where she went. Maybe her shift was over.   
Maybe she’s avoiding the creepy guy who keeps staring at her. 

I clear my throat, causing the others to look up at me. I push my chair away from the table and stand up, “I’ll be back. Excuse me.”

I stumble through the crowds of people, intending on finding the restroom, but instead, I find myself heading towards the door that leads into the alley beside the restaurant.   
I walk out into the cool night air and lean against an old pickup truck parked there.   
I take a few deep breaths, trying to clear my head of all thought, mostly those of Katniss. It’s stupid; I shouldn’t even have thoughts about this girl I’ve never even talked to.   
I’m still leaning against the truck when someone else comes out into the alley from the restaurant. 

“Hey! What are you doing to my car!?” the person shouts. 

I jump and take a step away from the car, “Sorry…I, uh, I’m sorry.”

The person steps into the alley and I almost laugh. Of course it has to be her, Katniss. 

She stands there, arms crosses, glaring at me. 

“You weren’t planning on stealing my truck, were you?” she spits, tapping her foot. 

I shake my head, “No, not at all. I was just getting some fresh air.”

She looks at me a moment longer before uncrossing her arms and sighing. We stand there in awkward silence, neither of us knowing what to say.   
I’d like to ask her something, anything, just to hear her voice. I rethink that though, and decide against it. She doesn’t exactly seem to be in the best mood.   
She takes a step forward and pushes past me, getting into her truck. She slams the door and I back away.   
She looks at me and rolls down the window, sticking a hand out. 

“I’m Katniss Everdeen,” she says, giving me a half smile. 

I reach out and take her hand in mine, intending on shaking it. As soon as I touch her, though, a jolt of electricity spreads throughout my entire body. I’m shocked for a moment, and meet her eyes, wondering if she felt it too. 

She’s staring at me, biting her bottom lip. 

“I—uh, I’m Pe—“

“Peeta Mellark, the café owner’s son. I know. We’ve met, sort of,” she says smiling again. 

I’m almost certain my knees would’ve buckled at the sight of her smile, had she not still been holding my hand. I nod and laugh. She lets go of my hand and I find myself wanting to grab hers again, and never let it go.   
She nods at me, puts the keys into the ignition and backs out of the alley, speeding down the street.   
I walk to the end of the alley, watching the direction her truck disappeared, and smile to myself. A formal introduction, that’s a start at least. 

When I make my way back to the table, I find that everyone’s finished eating and is getting up to leave. 

“Oh, hey Peet. We thought you’d skipped out on us,” Delly laughs, hooking her arm through mine. 

I chuckle and shake my head, placing my share of the bill on the table before following them out the door.   
Finnick and Annie stand awkwardly beside each other when we get outside, not saying a word. Delly and I look at each other and I offer to walk her to her car. She agrees, and we leave the two behind, hoping they’ll begin to at least communicate. 

When we reach her car, Delly turns on her heel and raises an eyebrow at me. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” I ask, “It’s a little weird, if I’m being honest.”

She rolls her eyes, “Care to explain where you went for so long, Mr. Mellark? And don’t say the bathroom, because even taking a shit doesn’t take that long.”

I sigh and look down at my feet, trying to come up with some kind of excuse. 

“I saw the way you were watching her,” she says suddenly and my head snaps up to meet her eyes. “The waitress, I mean.”

I shrug, “What do you mean watching her?” I rub the back of my neck with my hand, embarrassed. I really need to be a bit sneakier. 

She laughs, “Oh Peeta, don’t play these games with me. I’ve known you since we were three years old. I know you better than anyone. You were interested in that waitress.”

I open my mouth to protest, but am saved by Annie walking towards us.

“Ready to go, Delly?” she asks, nodding at me and climbing into the passenger side of the car. 

Delly nods and gives me one last look before getting in her car and driving away. 

I meet Finnick back at his car, and climb in. As we drive away, he looks at me, smirking, and I know I’m going to have a bit of explaining to do.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait and short update! Been busy with Christmas and family and exams are coming up! Hope to have more up soon!! xoxo

“I’m glad you decided to show up,” Gale says, smiling as he opens the door to his apartment. 

I return his smile and he opens his arms to me. I step into them quickly, and wrap my arms around him tightly. He plants a kiss on the top of my head and pulls me inside, pushing the door shut. 

Gale asks me to drop by his apartment pretty much every night after work. Most nights I tell him I’m too tired, because I know that though his invitations are genuine, and he does want to spend time with me, there’s an underlying reason; he’s interested in moving our relationship to the next level. 

I let him pull me to the couch and he drops down onto it, bringing me into his lap. 

I rest my head on his shoulder as he reaches for the remote and begins flipping through the television channels. 

He finally settles on some old black and white movie and I’m about to question his choice of programming when he takes my chin in his hands and turns my face towards his, forcing me to look at him. 

He smiles, “Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?” 

I sigh and push him away playfully, “Once or twice maybe.”

He chuckles and looks at me for a moment before crashing his lips into mine, kissing me hungrily. I gasp slightly at the sudden change in his mood, how it went from so sweet to so...intense in a matter of seconds. 

He tangles one hand in my hair, and runs the other up and down my body, coming to rest on the curve of my lower back. He pushes his tongue into my mouth and groans slightly as he does so, shifting his position on the couch. 

I hesitate a moment, for a reason I can’t really put my finger on. It’s not like Gale and I haven’t made out before…on the contrary, we’ve done it many, many times. This time though, something feels different. Off, in a way. 

I push the weird feelings away, though, and kiss him back with just as much passion. He seems to find this encouraging, and moves his hand farther down, taking the hem of my shirt between his fingers. I try to ignore this, and shift myself on top of him, rising up on my knees and tilting his head back so I can kiss him more easily.   
He slowly slides his hand underneath my shirt and brings it up to cup my breast, stroking me softly through the material of my bra.   
Despite my best efforts, I shiver at his touch, which only encourages him more. 

He moves the hand that was in my hair to my leg, moving it up and down my thigh, getting higher and higher each time. His hand inside my shirt slides around to my back, and his fingers dance along the clasp. He pulls away slightly, meeting my eyes, and undoes the clasp, with surprising ease.   
I open my mouth to protest, but he silences me with another kiss, one that takes my breath away. 

He slides the bra from my shoulders and it drops into his lap before he throws it behind his head. He continues to kiss me as he slides his other hand under my shirt to join the first.   
He begins gently kneading my breasts, and I try to tell him to stop, but his mouth is on mine once again, his tongue stroking mine, with increasing intensity. 

He leans back for only a moment and meets my eyes. “Katniss…” He says slowly, eyes dark with lust.

I shake my head, “Gale…come on…I’ve told you before, I’m not ready for…this.”

He sighs and nods, moving me from on top of him to beside him. “I know, I know. I just figured maybe you’d changed your mind.”

I shake my head again, and sigh. “I’m sorry, just still not ready.”

I glance down and bite my lip, “I can…help you though.” I shrug and he laughs, shaking his head. 

“Don’t worry about it, I wasn’t nearly close enough to being ready anyways,” he chuckles and pulls on my legs, causing me to collapse on top of him. 

We sit there for what seems like forever, wrapped up in each other’s arms, his hand slowly stroking my hair. 

Before I know it, it’s impossible to keep my eyes open, and I drift off to sleep. 

**

“Katniss, you’re going to be late if you don’t get up soon.”

My eyes fly open and I bolt upright, swatting the mess of hair away from my face.

I scan the room, no idea where I am, until my eyes adjust and land on Gale, standing beside the couch, staring at me. 

“What time is it?” I croak, stumbling to my feet and into the bathroom at the end of the hallway. 

“Almost noon,” he shouts before I slam the door behind me. 

I turn the faucet on and splash water on my face a few times, glancing into the mirror, when his words sink in. 

I gasp in horror, and throw the door open, grabbing my discarded bra from the floor and ripping my uniform shirt off, quickly fastening it on before replacing my shirt again. 

“Slow down, slow down! You’ll pass out from moving so fast!” Gale cries, crossing the room and placing his hands on my shoulders. 

I shake my head frantically and race back to the bathroom, taking my braid out and combing through my knotted hair with my fingers.  
“You don’t understand, Gale, I have to be at work for noon!” I shout back at him, messily rebraiding my hair.

With one last glance in the mirror I bolt out of the bathroom, to the front door, grabbing my keys from the coffee table as I go. Without saying goodbye, I race out the door and fly down the apartment stairs to my truck, waiting for me in the guest parking lot. 

“Shit, shit, shit!” I curse under my breath as I climb into the truck and race out of the parking lot.

I’ve been warned about being late to work before. I’d sort of gotten into the habit of showing up whenever I felt like it. Usually, Haymitch didn’t care, but that was when he was too drunk to notice.   
Twice, I’d been given a warning, those were the days when he was sober and coherent, and actually concerned about his employees and business. 

I pull into the alley next to the restaurant, and send out a silent prayer that this is a day he’s chosen to start drinking early. 

I slowly walk into the bar area, and, sure enough, none other than Haymitch Abernathy is standing beside the bar, looking right at me, seemingly sober.   
I give him a sheepish smile, and walk over to him. 

I open my mouth, to explain, beg, anything, but he puts a hand up to silence me, and I know this isn’t going to end well. 

“Miss Everdeen, I believe this is your third strike, yes?” He begins, raising an eyebrow.   
Before I can reply, he continues, “And, do you know what happens when an employee reaches their third strike? They get fired, Miss Everdeen. Hand in your apron and name tag; you can pick up your final paycheck next week.”  
With that, he turns on his heel and walks away. 

I sigh, holding back the urge to scream and cry. I needed this job, more than anything; especially if I want to get my own place sometime soon. 

I rip off my apron and throw it on the counter, placing my name tag on top. 

I take one last look around the restaurant, hoping that maybe Haymitch will change his mind, and offer me my job back. But, of course, he doesn’t.   
I storm back out to my truck and hop in, slowly pulling out and making my way down the street, the opposite direction from home. 

I can’t help but be slightly annoyed with Gale. He knows me schedule, he must have known I had work this afternoon, yet he didn’t wake me up. 

“Damn you, Gale,” I say aloud.   
I know it isn’t really his fault, I shouldn’t have fallen asleep at his house, but it’s easy to just be mad at him right now. 

I drive around aimlessly for a while, until I find myself downtown, and in front of the Mellark Café.   
As I drive by, I notice a sign in the window. I slam on the breaks and pull into a parking spot in front of the café.   
The sign reads, “Help Wanted”. 

Before I know it, I’m out of the truck, practically running up the stairs and through the door. 

I’m not really paying attention as I race through the door, and can’t say I’m surprised when I run smack into someone as soon as I’m inside. 

“I’m so sorry, I just—“I begin, looking up to face the person I just mauled, but trail off when I recognize who it is. 

Peeta Mellark is standing less than three inches from me, eyebrows raised, an amused look on his face.   
I quickly take a step back and look down, clearing my throat, “Sorry about that…”

He chuckles, “Don’t worry about it. At least I wasn’t carrying food.”

I laugh weakly and glance up at him, to find him already looking at me. 

Once again, those big, blue eyes meet mine, and my heart starts to race. 

He coughs once, “Anything I can help you with?” 

I nod, not moving my eyes from his, and point in the general direction of the sign in the window. 

“I saw that you’re looking for some help. I was wondering if maybe I could drop a resume off later today, or something?” 

He smiles almost immediately, “No need.”

I hesitate a moment and frown, “You’ve already found someone?”

He shakes his head, still smiling. 

I stay silent, watching him, waiting for him to say something. 

He chuckles, “No, I’ve already decided. You get the job.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiii Guys...  
> IM SO SORRY. I know it's been like...2 years since I've updated but...I've been busy. Whoops...  
> Anyways, I'm not sure if anyone is still interested, or if anyone still reads these..but I thought hey..why not start up again? I got a new computer and lost any other progress I made so this is literally a fresh start. I'm going to try to regularly update again, and I hope you'll read!! It's not a very long update but please enjoy anyways.  
> xoxo

Am I stupid or what? 

Offering this girl, who I have met twice and said about two words to, a job in my father’s cafe..without even consulting my father first? I must be out of my mind. 

Katniss stands in front of me, grinning from ear to ear. “Really?! Are you sure? I mean..you don’t want a resume, at least?” she says excitedly, biting her bottom lip. 

I can’t help but chuckle, “Uh, yeah..sure. Be here tomorrow, 9am, ready to work and with a copy of your resume. I have good people skills, you see, so I knew from the moment I met you that you would be a good employee.” 

She laughs, thanks me and runs out of the cafe.  
“I have good people skills? Really, Mellark?” I mutter to myself as I watch her climb into her old pickup truck and drive off. I sigh and rub the back of my neck with my hand. So, I offered a complete stranger a job, because I can’t control my own words. How am I going to explain this to my father. 

**  
I’m rearranging the display cases when my father returns from the market. He’s carrying an abundant supply of groceries and is having trouble. I rush over to help him, catching a bag of sugar before it crashes to the floor and splits open. I relieve him of the heaviest bags and bring them into the kitchen. 

“My boy, always there when I need him,” he huffs, smiling as he sets the bags on the counter. Trying to catch his breath he stumbles to a chair and sits down, wiping his brown with a handkerchief.   
My father has always had health problems. He has never been the most fit man in the world, and that’s coupled with issues with his heart and lungs, most likely from years of smoking when we were growing up. I’ve always worried about him, ever since I was little. He’s had some severe health scares over the years, and my brothers and I have, unfortunately, seen it all. We were there when the doctor’s informed him that he would need to have bypass surgery. We were there when he suffered from pneumonia. The worst of them all, I would have to say, happened when I was a mere four years old. My brothers were seven and eleven, so they had a slight better understanding of the problems that had been going on in our household for quite some time. I was the baby, and so I was sheltered from the worst of it. I was never around to hear the shouting matches my parents had-which my brothers told me happened almost daily-and I never witnessed our mother lash out at our father, hitting him with wooden spoons and metal pans. I noticed the wounds of course, but as I was basically still a baby my father would make up some heroic tale about a monster he fought, and I would believe it. One day however, I was there to witness what I can probably say is the worst moment of my life. My brothers, my father and I were in the kitchen of our old apartment building, father was teaching us how to bake his famous cheese buns, when all of a sudden our mother came crashing through the door; looking for blood.   
Mother had never been the most pleasant person to be around. Everything about her was cold; her personality and even her appearance. Her black hair, always pulled into a tight bun at the nape of her neck, the shades of grey she used to wear that washed out her skin tone and made the bags under her brown eyes stand out. I don’t ever recall a day where she told any of us that she loved us, or where she was showing any kind of affection at all. She was the disciplinarian, and would smack us if need be. Her words were always cutting and sarcastic, even as a small child I knew when she was being condescending or rude. As the baby of the family, you would think I was spared most of her hatred. That however, was not the case. I was always the target of her anger; always the one taking the brute force of it all. Once, she even hit me, giving me a black eye my father told everyone had been caused by rough-housing with my brothers. When I was old enough to understand what had gone on, my oldest brother Vienna told me that when mother was pregnant with me, she had wanted nothing more than to have a daughter. She had even made little pink dresses and hair bows. When it turned out I was a boy, she was extremely upset and disappointed, and from the moment of my birth she didn’t want much to do with me. Besides feeding me, she didn’t associate with me much. Needless to say, my mother and I never had a relationship, and I never found out if she was really as terrible as she seemed to be.   
Mother burst through the door, obviously extremely upset about something. My father picked me up off the chair I was using as a stool and handed me to Vienna, shoving us behind him protectively. He had always done everything he could to protect us from her wrath, but sometimes even he wasn’t able to. He took most of her abuse, and this day was the worst it would ever get. 

She screamed at him, profanities, insults, accusations, anything she could think of, I believe. My father stood there quietly, taking it all without even flinching. This made her even more angry, and she began pounding his chest with her fists. The three of us had backed away and were hiding under the kitchen table, watching. We could see our father’s face, he was wincing in pain but still didn’t move an inch. That’s when she started screaming about leaving him, and taking all three of us with her. This rattled my father and he began to respond. I remember him pleading with her, begging her not to do that, not to leave him and take his children. To this day I do not understand why he begged her not to leave. Not to take us, sure, but not to leave him? She had done nothing but make him miserable and abuse him; but my father is one of a kind. He still loved her unconditionally, that’s why he had married her, had three children with her, and why he begged her to stay. As his resolve crumbled, her blows got more intense and rough. She pounded his chest so hard, I was sure I saw it cave in. We should’ve known that with a heart as weak as his what happened next was coming.   
All of a sudden father’s face twisted with pain, and he cried out, collapsing to the floor. Mother stood there, hands curled into fists, father laying at her feet groaning in pain and clutching his chest. Her eyes went wide, and she looked at us hiding under the table. I remember Vienna and Rye screaming at her to leave, tears pouring down their cheeks. I was a statue, I couldn’t make a noise or move an inch. My eyes moved to my father’s figure slumped on the floor, which had now gone still. Then, I screamed, and pointed to his lifeless body, running towards him in a panic. My mother too, looked down and gasped. She looked around the room and with one last glance at us, took off out the door. My brothers called the ambulance and father was taken to the hospital. He had suffered a heart attack-his already weak hear coupled with the trauma my mother had caused was too much for him. Fortunately for us he recovered smoothly and was back on his feet in no time. 

We haven’t seen our mother since that day, 17 years ago. Sometimes I think I miss her, and then I remember what she did and who she was, and any of those feelings are gone as quickly as they came. I will never forgive her for hating me, or what she did to my father.   
Since then he hasn’t really been the same. Heartbroken, I guess, even though her leaving was probably the best thing that could have happened to our family; it saved us. Father filed for divorce as soon as he got his strength back, and when she didn’t bother to show up to court or the custody hearing, the divorce was granted and father given full custody of all three of us. Even as the youngest, I like to think that I tried the hardest to help take care of him after this all happened. Little four year old Peeta’s mission in life became to be there for his father; and I have been, every day since then. So when my father says I’m always there when he needs me, it gives me a sense of pride and accomplishment. 

“Are you feeling alright? Do you need a glass of water?” I ask, crouching down in front of him. He smiles at me and pats my cheek, shaking his head. I take a deep breath and decide now is a good a time as any. “Also, there is something I wanted to talk to you about,” I begin, smiling sheepishly. He nods for me to continue, still trying to catch his breath. “Well, you see. Today a girl..woman..came into the cafe and asked about the help wanted sign out front. She asked if she could bring in a resume..and..well I have met her a couple of times before..and…I..uh..told her there was no need to and she could start tomorrow,” I finish in one breath, avoiding his gaze. 

He pauses for a moment and then laughs loudly. I look up at him and he’s still smiling. “Well my son, you always have had good judgement. Sounds like you’re interested in this girl as well. Any call you make on employees is fine by me. Of course she can have the job; and of course you can train her.”

I grin from ear to ear and throw my arms around his neck. When I realize I’m being way too excited I retract my arms and cough, rubbing the back of my neck.   
“Okay, cool. So, yeah. Thanks, dad,” I say casually, getting up to put the groceries away. 

Father chuckles and mumbles something under his breath that sounds a hell of a lot like ‘no fucking on the job’. 

**

She’s here. 

I’m standing behind the counter, counting the money in the register when I see her truck pull up in front of the shop. I clear my throat as she gets out and grabs her purse, looking both ways before jogging across the street. She walks through the door and smiles, waving at me. I wave back, trying to resist the urge to break out into the biggest grin.   
She looks fantastic. She’s wearing light blue skinny jeans with a slight rip in one knee, and a plaid shirt over a red tank top that’s skin tight, her breasts straining against it. Her silky brown hair is in what I’ve assumed to be her usual style; a braid thrown over her shoulder. She’s right in front of me when I snap out of my reverie, still smiling. 

“So boss, what’s on the agenda first?”


	5. Chapter 5

I smile up at the blue eyed man, genuinely excited for my first day of training.   
“So boss, what’s on the agenda first?” I chuckle, putting my chin in my hand and batting my eyelashes.

He laughs heartily, and the sound makes my heart flutter. His eyes sparkle, emanating kindness.   
“Well, first thing’s first I guess. Some general questions,” he composes himself, “How long have you been serving?”

I scrunch my nose, genuinely having to think about his question. “I’ve been working for so many years..trying to keep us afloat…let me see..about four years now? I started off just bussing tables, of course, but then when I turned 16, Haymitch let me serve even though I was under the drinking age..and the rest is history, I guess.”

He nods, “Okay cool, so you have lots of experience. How would you say you are with customers?” 

I chuckle, “Well I mean, everyone has that facade they put on when dealing with customers in the workplace. I am definitely no different there.”

He smiles and again, my heart flutters. Don’t be stupid, Katniss, I warn myself. 

“A perfected poker face, great, great. Now, I think that’s enough playing around. Let’s get to business shall we? I’ll show you around,” Peeta says, gesturing for me to come around the counter.   
I do so, and he leads me into the kitchen, where two other young men are busily working away.   
“Hey guys,” Peeta says, causing them to look up from their work. Both men smile, one with a little too much enthusiasm. “Katniss, these are my brothers. This one here’s Vienna, he’s the oldest, can’t you tell? Then there’s Rye…you’ll come to find that he’s a bit of a trouble maker. Guys, this is Katniss, our newest employee.”

The man Peeta named as Rye raises an eyebrow and crosses the room so he’s standing right in front of me. He does a slight bow and sticks out his hand, looking up at me from under his eyelashes.  
“How do you do ma’m, the name’s Rye,” he says as I shake his outstretched hand. 

His features are nothing like Peeta’s. His hair is a chestnut brown, and his skin is much darker than Peeta’s as well, and he has brown eyes instead of the bright blue Peeta does. However, by the shape of their faces and the similar bone structures, you can tell they’re related. Rye also seems a hell of a lot more outgoing and loud than Peeta; his colorful introduction says that much. 

The oldest brother, Vienna, is still working away at his station, kneading a dough of some kind. He looks in our direction and rolls his eyes.  
“Rye, don’t scare the poor girl off on her first day,” He looks up at me and smiles kindly, “I’m Vienna, it’s nice to meet you, Katniss.”

I nod and smile, returning the sentiment. Vienna too has a different set of features. The first thing to catch your eye is his jet black hair; I have no idea where that could’ve possibly come from, judging by their father’s golden locks. His eyes however, are the same bright blue, and his smile is luminous and friendly. It’s obvious that he assumes a sort of fatherly position between the three, he has the air of authority about him. 

When the introductions are finished, Peeta takes me to a corner of the kitchen and begins showing me where they keep all the recipes and ingredients.   
“Now, you probably won’t be working in the kitchen too often if we can help it. That’s usually where you’ll find my brothers and I. You will mainly be out front, helping customers and watching the shop and all that. Just in case though, I’ll let you in on all the secrets that are in use back here,” he winks at me, pulling a large book off the shelf.   
The next hour is spent going over the recipes, until I ask Peeta to demonstrate for me. 

“I can’t sell what I haven’t tasted,” I point out, biting my cheek to keep from laughing.   
He chuckles and shakes his head, agreeing to give me a sample. 

“One of my specialities-bread wise-are cheese buns. Sound good?” 

I nod and he rummages through the cupboard for the ingredients he needs. He begins to bake, slowly explaining every step and ingredient he uses. I’m kind of in awe at how seriously he takes this job, and at the amount of care he puts into it.   
His strong hands knead the dough, his muscles rippling under his shirt. I can’t help but stare.   
“So,” I cough, “Bread seems to be a big thing around here, hm?” 

“Yeah, my father used to own a bakery. Before we moved here, that is. He decided to expand a couple years back and had been looking for the perfect place to set up a small cafe somewhere. He found Panem, and this building, and he was sold. Easiest decision he ever made, he’s always told us, right after deciding to marry our mom…” he trails off, clearing his throat. “Anyways yes, bread is a big thing for us.”  
I’m about to ask about his mother, I hadn’t seen a woman around here, when he starts off on a new story about how his father came to find this particular building. I find myself clinging to his words-even though they’re not really anything too exciting. I watch his lips move as he speaks, curling around his perfect, white teeth. The wrinkles that form at the corners of his eyes when he smiles, and the dimples that appear in his cheeks. A single blond curl falls into his eyes and he gently swats it away, never skipping a beat in his work or his speech.   
“So, you’re the youngest of three boys. Clearly an insane daddy’s boy by the way you talk about your father. And…you’re a bread boy,” I conclude, leaning back in my chair. 

He laughs as he plops the tray in the oven and sets the timer.  
“I guess thats the gist of it, yes,” he smiles. “Now, is your real test. Customer service. Let’s go Miss. Everdeen.”

I follow him into the dining room, and to my surprise there are a bunch of people seated at different tables. Nothing compared to the crowds I was used to at Abernathy’s, I could definitely handle it.   
“Where’s my notepad?” I raise an eyebrow and suppress a smirk. Peeta returns the smirk, scoops a pad off the counter and shoves it in my hand, pushing me in the direction of the customers. 

My time to shine.   
**

Two and a half hours later, I’m clearing the remaining plates off the empty tables. My first shift went off without a hitch. There were no problems, no drunk customers trying to hit on me, no rude men yelling comments when I didn’t pour their drink fast enough. It was busy, but somehow relaxing.   
I dump the dishes in the sink and turn to Peeta, a hand on my hip.   
“So, boss?” 

He shakes his head and looks down at his feet, “Well…I hate to say this but I was wrong about you, Katniss.”

I’m completely shocked by his words and my mouth drops open.   
“You…what? Why? What did I do wrong?” I ask sheepishly. 

He begins to pace back and forth in front of me, his hands clasped behind his back. I’m nervous. I don’t think I’ve ever been this nervous. I always thought I was a good waitress, I’d never really had any complaints before. I’ve always been confident in my abilities, but as Peeta, the bread boy, walks back and forth in front of me without saying a word, I’m terrified. I’d really wanted him to like me, wanted this job to work out. He seems like such a good person, and his family too, I has been so exciting about working with people who wouldn’t be drunk and rude all the time. I might have just screwed everything up though, because now he’s looking directly at me; his blue eyes are unreadable. 

“This isn’t a bar. It isn’t what you’re used to. It’s not some big joint where no one is going to care how you treat them as long as they get their beer. We are not pushovers, and we are definitely not absentee owners of this place. We might not have much experience, but we know what good service in a cafe looks like. You, Miss. Everdeen….” he drops his serious looks and breaks into a huge grin, “Did absolutely FANTASTIC! I was really impressed. Coming from a place like Abernathy’s, this is a big change, but I am pleased. I didn’t doubt you for one second. You’ll be a great asset to Mellark’s.”

I nearly drop the floor I’m so relieved. I squeal in delight, and before I can stop myself I’m flying across the room and find my way into Peeta’s arms. I’m hugging him tighter than I have ever hugged anyone before-I’m not usually one for much physical contact-and I’m genuinely happy.   
I stand there for a moment or so before I realize; Katniss, you unprofessional shit, you just threw yourself at your boss.  
I quickly untangle myself from his grip and play with my braid, coughing softly.   
“Thank you, Peeta. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I grab my purse from under the counter and nearly sprint out of there.   
As I get into my truck I can’t help but smile to myself as I have the realization; he was hugging me back.


End file.
